


Chocolate-chip Biscuits and Flower-themed Cake

by Queen_MissC



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Baking, F/M, Fondant Cake, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Nightmares, Rip feels lonely, chocolate cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_MissC/pseuds/Queen_MissC
Summary: "I'm... I'm making a cake," he told her, swallowing the lump in his throat."You are making a cake... You..." The disbelief in her voice was clear.Rip didn't know if he should have been offended by the fact that she didn't think he was capable of baking something. So he simply shrugged it off and went back to his bowl."Since when do you bake cakes?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set after Legends of Tomorrow's season 2 finale. English isn't my first language and If you spot any mistakes, please point them out so I can correct them. I actually had some problems finding the right word for a cake that has more than one piece. I found 'two-tiered cake', but I'm not sure if it is right. Is there a more suitable word for it?  
> And just so you know, I would probably sell my (nonexistent)firstborn for a cake made by Rip Hunter. Enjoy!

"Don't leave me. Please, please don't leave me," Rip screamed running through the corridors of the Waverider, "Please!"

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not reach the figures in front of him. He felt suddenly empty and scared. He didn't want that, didn't want to be alone anymore. Except it felt like he was destined to be.

Suddenly someone was calling him and his eyes snapped open, feeling hands on his shoulders, forcefully shaking him.

Rip blinked a few times and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The room came slowly into focus and it was the familiar sight of his office. He probably passed out on his desk again.

"Rip?"

His head turned to the side, finding Sara in what looked like her sleeping clothes, with a worried expression on her face. She didn't move her hands from his body and he was glad for the gesture, because it helped groundg him.

"Sorry," he said.

"There is nothing to apologize for," she replied, "It was just a nightmare. It's ok."

Rip shook his head, breaking the contact by getting up. Unfortunately in doing so he knocked the bottle of rum over, which was on the table. The alcohol ended up spilling all over some papers and the floor.

"Bloody hell." he cursed under his breath.

"You've been drinking again." Sara said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I was. There is no need to deny it."

"Drinking yourself into oblivion is not the answer to your problems," she moved closer to him, "You can talk to me, you know that, right? Or to Martin, Ray or Jax."

"Thanks for the offer but, no," Rip started cleaning up the mess he had caused.

"You were screaming," the White Canary ignored his glare.

"Then I apologize for waking you up," he said avoiding her eyes on him.

"I was already awake and was headed to the kitchen to grab some milk. Want to join me?"

On every other occasion Rip would have declined the offer, but in that moment he needed the company.

"Sure."

He tossed the spilled papers and empty bottle into the garbage and then followed Sara to the kitchen.

Once there, he watched as she used the fabricator to make some milk. Something inside of him switched and he suddenly felt compelled to bake. That's how he survived the year of imprisonment and solitude, how he hadn’t gone mad after he gave up fighting.

Sighing, he removed and hung up coat and jacket and started roaming through the shelves and cupboards in search of the right ingredients and the fondant. He would make a cake, a flower themed one. Not something big, and some biscuits. Yes, chocolate chip biscuits would be great.

Considering he wasn't going to sleep again and it was the middle of the night, he had plenty of time to do them.

Rip was so absorbed in his thoughts that he had completely forgotten Sara. She was now curiously watching him with a mug in her hand.

The ex-Time Master took a bowl and then poured some flour into it, followed by some sugar.

"Gideon? Can you fabricate me some eggs please?"

"Yes, captain."

He took the eggs, breaking them into another bowl and separated the yellow from the white. Now he just needed to find the mixer.

"What are you doing?"

Rip jumped and almost dropped the bowl. His eyes widened when he found Sara staring at him with an amused smirk on her face. He had forgotten that she was there.

"I'm... I'm making a cake," he told her, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"You are making a cake... You..." the disbelief in her voice was clear.

Rip didn't know if he should be offended by the fact that she didn't think he was capable of baking something. So he simply shrugged it off and went back to his bowl.

"Since when do you bake cakes?"

He put the ingredients aside and turned his head away from her. Sara wasn't going to drop the matter, he was sure of that.

"Since I had a lot of time on my hands and didn't have anything else to do," Rip muttered.

"Rip..."

"I don't want to talk about this," he looked anywhere but her.

"Is this about Doomworld?"

"Doomworld?" now he actually met her gaze, an eyebrow raised.

"The reality created by Thawne." she explained.

"What kind of name is Doomworld?" he asked resting his elbows on the counter.

"Nate chose it."

"I'm not even surprised."

"So, is it about that?" Sara insisted, taking a few steps forward.

He didn't answer her and it was enough. Rip went back to mix the ingredients, finding a bit of comfort in that small gesture. The nightmare was still vivid in his mind. He really didn't want to push her away, but he didn't want to talk either.

"Do you need a hand?" she asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"No, thank you. Maybe you should go back to sleep," he suggested.

Rip waited but Sara didn't show any signs of wanting to leave. He ignored her once again and went back to his cake.

The White Canary kept sipping her milk until he put everything in the oven. He then proceeded to look at the fondant, trying to decide which color scheme to use.

"I need some chocolate." Rip muttered going over to the fabricator.

He was already thinking about the biscuits. That was until Sara stepped between him and the chocolate bars he needed.

"What?" he snapped.

"I'm worried about you."

"There's no need, I'm fine," he said rolling his eyes.

"Like I believe you. Since when did you become a baker? Besides compulsively cooking in the middle of the night, is far from fine," Sara put the mug down and stared at the Englishman, waiting for an answer.

"Captain Hunter started this hobby when he was trapped on the ship by Eobard Thawne. I must say his culinary skills improved considerably during that year," Gideon answered when Rip didn't open his mouth.

"Gideon!" he huffed in annoyance.

"Sorry Captain, but I can't keep watching you struggle," the AI replied, "You need to talk to Captain Lance about your problems."

The betrayed look on Rip's face was evident and he couldn't believe Gideon would spill the beans like that.

"See, even Gideon agrees." she could have sworn that he muttered a 'Women!' under his breath.

"I just want to make some biscuits," he murmured.

"Why?"

"Because it keeps me occupied. It keeps me from thinking and feeling." was the answer.

"Feeling what?"

"Loneliness, despair, regret..." he almost laughed.

"You are not alone. I'm right here. We are here," Sara said.

"But you weren't. You weren't here when reality was rewritten. You weren't trapped in your own ship for a year. You weren't remembering who you were. I did," Rip rested his back against the counter, feeling tired, "I tried to find a way to communicate with the outside world. And I failed. I thought you were all dead... And I was here, alone, powerless."

A bitter laugh escaped his mouth.

"It's funny, isn't it? For years it was only Gideon and me. And now I can't... I... Maybe it's a punishment for the things I did. Killing you, crashing my ship... I deserve everything that's coming at me," he closed his eyes, "I'm scared. No, I'm terrified that I'm going to wake up with all of you gone one day. Baking and alcohol were the only things that kept me and keep me from going mad. So please step aside and let me get the chocolate."

The whole time Rip had stared down at his feet, not able to look at Sara.

She was expecting something of that sort, but hearing it loud and clear made her feel sad for him.

"Is that why you were screaming 'don't leave me'? You were dreaming of being left alone?"

He only nodded.

Sara's arms suddenly wrapped around him, crushing him into a hug. Rip tensed, not used to such a gesture from the White Canary.

"We are here, Rip. We won't leave you. I promise."

His head dropped onto her shoulder, inhaling her scent. He needed to feel her., to make sure she was real. He needed the physical contact more than ever, even though he tried to convince himself of the opposite.

Rip didn't cry, or said anything. He just stayed there for a moment, before breaking the hug.

"Thanks," he said looking down once again.

"You’re welcome. Now, you said something about cookies?" Sara asked, grabbing the chocolate bars for him and handing them over.

"I did. Do you... Uh... Do you want to help?"

"I thought you’d never ask."

\-----

Three hours later a two-tiered cake covered in white fondant and blue and purple flowers was standing in the middle of the table, surrounded by dozen of chocolate chip biscuits. Rip was almost finished with cleaning up the mess he had made, while Sara kept glancing at the cookies, waiting for them to cool down. She looked like a child, unable to be patient.

"They won't cool down faster if you keep staring at them," he said, finally sitting by her side.

"Then distract me. Those cookies smell so good. I don't know how you can resist them," she whined, stomping her foot.

Rip couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm.

"Why, thank you. I'm flattered."

Sara smiled back, before suddenly poking him into his ribs.

"Ow, why did you do that?" he protested.

"How much of the stuff you bake, do you actually eat?"

"Not much," Rip looked away, "I think the first biscuits I did, are ready..."

She didn't even let him finish speaking, before grabbing one from the silver plate and bit into it. The moan that escaped her mouth was almost shameful.

"Oh God, it's even better than sex!"

Rip blushed, feeling something warm spread inside of him. It was nice to see that someone enjoyed his baking.

"I can't wait to taste the cake." Sara turned towards him, mouth half full of food. "Seriously, I had no idea you could even do something this amazing."

He was about to reply, when voices interrupted him.

"Man, can you smell that?"

"Yeah, I think it’s coming from the kitchen..."

In less than a minute, Ray and Jax walked in, freezing when they noticed the amount of cookies on the table and the cake.

"Is the fabricator broken?" Jefferson asked in disbelief.

"Woah, look at that cake!" Raymond said at the same time.

"Rip did them," Sara interrupted, "Come and have a cookie! They are amazing!"

The former Time Master felt pride rising when both men had more or less the same reaction as the White Canary after tasting his food. And soon the rest of the crew joined them. They made him promise to do everyone's birthday cake and cookies at least once a week. Even a fight broke out between Mick and Sara about the biscuits.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Rip gathered his clothes andsilently made his way to his office. The team didn't notice him leaving, to engrossed in the fight that was going on.

"Thank you, Gideon. For the little input," he murmured once he sat down on the couch.

"You are welcome, Captain," she answered.

He fell asleep soon after that and Sara found him there when she went looking for him. She gently placed a blanket over his sleeping form, smiling.

"You are not alone, Rip. And you won't get rid of us that easily," she gently whispered into his ear.

Then she sat down at the desk and started going through some paperwork, a chocolate-chip cookie safely hidden away in her pocket.


End file.
